Artist: Dom Pachino f/ Shyheim
Album: Gunz An Glory: A Soldier Story
Song: G-Niggaz
Typed by: Cno Evil
[Intro: Dom Pachino]
G-Niggaz, what?
Yeah, they keep calling (leave me alone, leave me alone)
Only problem is, they ain't saying shit (leave me alone)
They keep telling me, what everybody else is doing (fuck them niggas, man)
What you doing (tell me) what you doing?
[Dom Pachino]
With the bread, I got nova head, the lead spread, a soldier dead
Niggas keep telling me, P, hold your head
But I can't, wait for this CREAM, no more, knowing it's my dream to law
I see weak niggas get rich, now ain't that a bitch and whore
Should I resort, to the shit that have a nigga in court
Man, I been there, done that, played that sport
Ran up and down these blocks like a game of full court
Sold green, sold snort, at the same time, holding my fort
Like a tiena on San Juan, but it's Dom Pachino and Shyheim
Team Napalm, feel the strength
Same niggas, same borough, same hood
Now ain't that making sense? It's all good
We got an LP for ya, a movie in the making
We out, to get that cake, cuz it's ours for the taking
And the women be loving us, cuz we some fly niggas
And niggas be hating us, because, we some live niggas
Just as long as they don't try and to, affect our figures
We let 'em live, as long as they respect G-Niggaz, what?
[Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino]
We G-Niggaz, you know us when you see niggas
Staten Isle, Broad Street and Todd G. niggas
We creep on you, and lay that fucking beam on you
You freeze up, til you feel that fucking steam on you
[Shyheim]
My name rings like the sample in this beat
I parked up next to the Phantom on the street
And walked away while the CD still playing
So visual, you can see these words I'm saying
Sold so much 'white chick', you thought I was a Wayans
In my hometown, they labeled me king
Cuz I am (who you?) the D.O.N.
And he's my muthafuckin' homey, the D.O.M.
Bottom Up and Napalm, we form the strength
Crimes high and cyanides, so much strategically
Nine times out ten times, he be with me
I'm talking sense, eight/seven, eight/nine
P.S. 14, I.S. 49, but keep Port Richmond, Curtis and New Dorf
You know, you soft, they heard, who lost
So run off, and jerk off, jerk off
[Chorus]